NAPOWRIMO #17

Today’s prompt:

Write a poem about yourself, with the same amount of verses as years of your life.

Post your poem to comments!

Reminders
Read the NaPoWriMo page for details on how the challenge works and how you can participate this month, no matter what your personal writing challenge is for the month of April.

Please read How to Post during NaPoWriMo to find out how the prompt posts work. Remember that work shared this month is shared in precisely that spirit: sharing, as opposed to critiquing.

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Posted on April 17, 2015, in NaPoWriMo. Bookmark the permalink. 9 Comments.

  1. Growing up a quiet kid wasn’t a choice I made but a choice others made,
    I chose, to let others talk for me, for them to speak the words my haunted lips wouldn’t say.

    Yet they never got my tone nor implication, for how were they supposed to know what I meant with only my eyes for communication?

    I suppose it was bickering when I know I lost my battle that turned me into a quiet foe,
    I, no longer had strength nor meaning behind my words but I knew in my head they made sense.
    In my head, I knew, that if I could verbally let the avalanche of words come forth that,
    that my mind would finally be set free, but how can a deaf man speak?

    I wish, oh I wish.

    Later on in my years I learned to speak in other ways, through my eyes rather than through speech,
    art became a therapeutic thing, but how can I give you my message when you interpret my painting with another meaning?

    Yeah, it sucks.
    But the older I get the more I realize my messages become more clear, I no longer need the art but rather use my lips as a paintbrush and the colors are my words.
    I find that when I speak, I get upraised, but maybe this is because when you hear a deaf man finally speak he has much to say but can’t communicate them.

    I’ve learned to speak for myself and quiet others who try to speak for me, yet the deaf man calls back to me; I hear remorse in my heart and colors swirl in my head.
    Though despite the protests I’ve learned to come out of this shell that has been forged around me all these years, and fresh air washes all around me.

    I suppose turning 16 taught me a lot, but I imagine when I’m 26,
    I won’t know enough.

    – There’s 16 verses, they are just broken up kind of weird. Some are short and some are long, and some are put together. Hope you guys enjoy! 🙂

  2. Myself
    I don’t know how to start this poem
    The subject being me
    I don’t feel like Jeroboam
    But I defiantly can’t part the red sea
    I’m new to this

    I guess I’ll just talk about myself
    And all the things I like
    And how at one point I really wanted to be an elf
    Or maybe I’ll talk about things I dislike
    Maybe about my life like an oceanic abyss

    Wait that sounds boring
    And like what I have done many times before
    But maybe you would like to implore
    Upon how life could ever be a bore
    And tell me I how I shouldn’t diss

    But with so much death
    What else can I do
    Feeling like a character out of Macbeth
    I don’t mean to sound shrew
    But if you mention it I’ll hiss

    What about the good
    I guess there is some of that to
    If I told you you’d
    Say let it flow from you like a morning dew
    And I’d say I don’t mean to be a priss

    I would tell you about my grandma
    But she’s gone
    I could tell you about my grandpa
    But he’s gone too
    Well that was a swing and a miss

    How about I talk about rice crackers
    And how good they are
    And the wasabi peas that are like attackers
    I wouldn’t even sell them in a two star bar
    God those things are hot and don’t bring me any bliss

    I could talk about pocky
    So sweet
    And I don’t mean to be cocky
    About this awesome treat
    Hey, maybe later we can share a pocky kiss

    I could talk about my Japanese cartoon
    And the super awesome characters
    And maybe about Black Lagoon
    Or about how Seirin is always the Victor
    In anime nothing goes amiss

    Can’t say that about my life
    But I can say good is coming
    As I wield my carving knife
    And I try to interact with God, forthcoming
    That’s right church my lady miss

    I have begun to go
    And it has really done a number
    It’s kinda helped my aching soul
    I feel like I’ve been woken from a slumber
    And I have been given time to reminisce
    I just noticed that this is stanza twelve
    Only three more to be done
    And I guess I’m ready for this delve
    That has shown me a ton
    To end in remiss

    But I won’t do that
    So we can still talk
    I have two more stanzas to get at
    Before I get to walk
    And be dismiss

    Here it is, time to sum it up
    These won’t rhyme
    Cause I kind of suck
    Poetry is my life
    It’s what I love

    But rhyming I could do without
    I love free style
    And writing about my life
    I just didn’t know what to write about tonight
    Anyway piece out time for Star Wars: the Old Republic

  3. My freckles shining in the sun,
    Dirty shoelaces, all undone
    Straight as sticks mahogany hair
    Shoulder length, but also fair
    A small town farm girl
    But not an overalls girl
    Homeschooled
    But very cool
    I only laugh
    At the way I fail math
    But the boys don’t care
    And sometimes I wish I weren’t so fair

    I am 12 years old and I am a total heartthrob 😦

  4. My paper is the world,
    My pencil is the car.
    My writing takes me places,
    Sometimes near and sometimes far.

    Imagination is my map,
    It tells me where to go
    To uncover hidden details,
    Learn things that will help me grow.

    Motivation is my gasoline,
    And sometimes I run out.
    But when that happens, I refill,
    Then take a different route.

    Writing is my favorite way
    To travel to and fro,
    It doesn’t cost a penny, and I can choose where to go!

    (Technically that last line should have been split in two, but I had to make it fifteen verses!)

  5. I am funny.
    Green.
    I am crazy.
    Lean.
    I am anything but lazy.
    Fighting Machine.
    I know I can get through this.
    I know I’m not the best.
    But it’s all I can get
    From now till the rest.
    Of my amazing life.

    Pretty weak but hey, what the heck? 🙂

  6. I am a wanderlust that stands proud and tall.
    The urge to discover the far and unknown.
    Inside me a lions roars to map the world.
    Inside my soul I plead to conquer the world!

    I am a musician with grace and appeal
    Hovering to uncover the mystery of black and white keys.
    To blow into the dangers of a shiny brass invention
    To tame the great beast of sound and noise.

    I am a writer with great determination.
    The key of imagination lying between paper and pen.
    I trust my mind to travel far and wide
    To uncover the stories that will one day become mine!

    I am willful dreamer. I am.

    *I am planning to email all of my poems in the end, Mrs. Emery 🙂

  7. Hailey Elizabeth

    The Life of a Fifteen Year Old

    Fair skin and blonde hair
    From my red-headed momma bear
    I inherited her height
    Short, kind of tight
    I am very lean
    I like being apart of a team

    Softball is my sport
    I build houses with my cousins, called forts?
    I love to babysit, that’s just my thing
    I’m also not very good at high school flings
    Boys don’t “dig” me cause I’m not a cheerleader
    I instead play softball, and am an avid reader

    I devote myself to everything, that’s just who I am

    I think this poem has enough verses; fifteen
    I also am in love… it’s perfect! his name is ice-cream!

    – fifteen; that’s me! sixteen in November; November 30 ! 😛

  8. The swift, salty breeze,
    plays with my hair.
    The tiny grains of sand,
    tickle my bare feet.
    The sun’s friendly rays,
    bathe me in warmth.
    The soft, gentle waves,
    roll over my feet.
    I love the ocean.
    _________________
    Sorry, I didn’t follow the prompt!! 😛 Hey, I went to the beach recently…….;)

  9. Who am I?

    I am that girl
    Who always sits alone
    Who doesn’t talk
    In her own world

    I am that girl
    With a smile always
    Who holds open the door
    For as long as it takes

    I am that girl
    That it takes years
    To have a conversation
    With a classmate

    I am that girl
    That you think is quite odd
    Whom you know something
    Isn’t normal about her

    I am that girl
    Who has that other-worldly appearance
    With hair like Rapunzel’s,
    And eyes like the ocean

    I am that girl
    Who will shout when you least expect it
    Who will defend her belief to the end
    Who will confront a biology teacher to prove it

    I am that girl
    Who when you looked into her eyes
    You just knew
    I am not from this world

    I am an alien on Earth

    I am not home

    You knew I was not normal
    And you were afraid

    You didn’t like that I was different
    And didn’t know how to treat me

    So you just ignored me

    You don’t say ‘thank-you’
    When I hold the door

    And soon I’ll be gone

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